


Companions and Eventualities 9 -- Last Night

by Viola_Laterra



Series: Companions and Eventualities [9]
Category: Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: Brave New World Ending, Chronic Illness, F/M, Loss, M/M, Other, Physical Disability, Post-Canon, Transitioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viola_Laterra/pseuds/Viola_Laterra
Summary: The Prophet and Jespar face a difficult transition together: an ending of one phase, and the beginning of a new one.(Takes place 30 years after Brave New World Ending)
Relationships: Jespar Dal'Varek/Prophet | Prophetess
Series: Companions and Eventualities [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809244
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

I found myself surprisingly nervous as we reached the top of the Tower of Memories that held the Starling Archive. The place was quite familiar, at least. I'd come here more and more often with Jespar in the last few years, as he'd needed more help navigating the way there, and in the last weeks we'd ended up just temporarily moving into a workshop nearer to the Tower. 

He insisted on finishing our entry in the Archive before we tried... what we were about to try tomorrow. And tonight it would be finished. I felt an immense responsibility to him, putting the finishing touches on his work (though under his direction of course). I also felt a responsibility to the people who might someday come here and try to understand the Cycle and our particular turn of it. And... a responsibility to all those who were lost in our Cleansing. Was my nervousness due to that feeling of responsibility? Or to the enormity of what was to come?

As I stepped carefully down the stairs to the Archive platform, careful not to jar Jespar, I felt his arms tighten around me. I thought he was feeling it, too... the feeling of something coming to a close. A new chapter being about to open.

We came to the center of the Tower, and I laid him as gently as I could on the low couch we'd set up there. He made a little sound of discomfort, and I helped him arrange his limbs as comfortably as possible. "Thanks," he said softly. At first, he'd resisted my offer to carry him here. It was like the final admission of his fate, that he couldn't get around on his own anymore. And it was a hard adjustment for someone who had so valued his own independence. But it was also the mark of thirty years of partnership that his resistance hadn't lasted long, and he'd consented for me to do this for him. I picked up the blankets that we'd left piled to the side of the couch and tucked them around him, knowing that though it was surprisingly warm up here, down at the bottom of the Archive shaft it could get quite cold.

As I stood and stepped back from him, and he smiled weakly up at me, I thought to myself that he was still attractive, even in his sixties and suffering from a mysterious magical degenerative condition. At first we'd joked about how I didn't age while he did... but after a while, it became a too-painful reminder of the truth of our situation. His hair and beard had become lighter and lighter with white hair over time, and he'd recently lost a lot of weight from a declining appetite and from being unable to walk much. But even with all that, Jespar still had it: that same spark that had attracted me to him, back in Enderal. 

I leaned back down and kissed him, and said, "Just a moment," turning back to the platform controls and setting them to descend slowly to the viewing level. The mechanisms stirred to life and the familiar sound of the platform grinding quietly down the shaft filled the air around us. At a comfortable speed, it took several minutes to get where we needed to go, so I went back to Jespar and sat on the ground next to him where he lay on the low couch. He reached for me, so I leaned into him, twining my arm around his, and took his hand. He sighed and closed his eyes.

Eventually, he said, "This is not how I pictured myself, you know..." he paused, steeled himself, and then finished, "Ending."

I sighed and nodded. "When I first met you... Sure, I'll bet we'd both have guessed you just would have got into some job you couldn't quite handle, at some point, or made a misjudgment of some kind at the wrong moment, and you'd've been killed quickly."

Jespar gave a short laugh. "Yeah. That's about the size of it. Live fast, die fast. Have you ever... actually seen that eventuality?" he asked, a little tentatively, opening his eyes and looking over at me.

I shook my head. "It must be pretty far from ours." And it had been years since I'd seen another eventuality in my dreams, anyway.

"But you have seen ones in which we stopped the Cleansing." It was almost like telling bedtime stories... sharing those visions I'd had over the years in which some kind of world like the one we'd known had survived. They sustained us, over the decades, as we tried to think of ways to intervene in the next Cycle.

I nodded to him and squeezed his hand gently. Then I added, "But only ones in which I also survived. I've never seen an eventuality in which I had died."

Jespar sighed and nodded, and closed his eyes again, resting back against the pillow. He said slowly, speculatively, "I think about what I would have done, if you had made a different choice, when we were standing there under the Sun Temple. If you'd decided that you should destroy the Beacon, at the cost of your own life... I remember saying to you that I thought I could get to a Myrad Tower and fly to an outlying island, to try to get outside the area of the blast."

I chuckled and said, "Remember Myrads?" Jespar nodded, smiling. We were both thinking of flight a lot, lately.

But he went on: "I think about what I would have said to the Golden Queen. How I would have tried to get them all to believe me. And I think about what I would have said about you."

"Oh?" In the three decades since the end of our Cycle, he'd never talked to me about this.

"I think... if I had been trying to convince everyone of what we knew from the Black Guardian, what the High Ones truly are, and what the Beacon really does... I would have described it as a moment of lucidity. A moment where we could collectively make a choice to see the unwelcome truths that we've buried. That we had the opportunity to act, to be different... or we could ignore the moment of clarity and remain slaves to our habits."

Jespar sighed, pausing. I didn't know if he was finished, but as I waited, we reached the bottom of the shaft. We had been looking at some of the earlier histories yesterday, comparing the style with our own depictions, to make sure that they'd be clear to someone who might see these illustrations someday. Jespar had been very picky about that in the last few months, asking me to make small adjustments here and there. It would take a few more minutes for the Archive to retrieve our records. I squeezed his hand and stood to send the instructions through the control pillar, and, that done, I returned to his side. The Archive machinery began to spin around us as it searched for the proper record.

Jespar looked over at me and said, "And I think I would have said to them that the way to change things, to learn from what happened to Enderal... it wouldn't be a revolution. It would be a long path, full of obstacles. Full of these moments to choose to go quietly back to how we were, or to keep fighting for something better. I... I would have said..." And now there were tears in his eyes; I knelt down and took his hand again, which he held close to his chest. "I would have said that your sacrifice was proof of that. That you granted us a moment of lucidity. The chance to start down the rocky path of change. The chance to free ourselves from the High Ones. And that would have given me hope that you would not have died in vain. That we would continue walking down that path, in your memory."

He'd clearly thought about this a great deal, over the decades. I said to him, quietly, "Thank you." I reached over with my free hand and gently brushed a few tears away with my fingers, and kissed him on the cheek. We didn't know how tomorrow was going to go, so it wasn't so surprising that he was thinking about losing me, even if I wasn't the one at risk.

Jespar nodded at me, and then looked away for a moment at the rapidly spinning stone around us. I said, "I've often wondered what those eventualities would look like, the ones I can't see because I am not in them. It's... it's a lovely image, thinking of you telling people that."

He turned his head back toward me and smiled. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Enough sentiment, for now, eh? Let's review the plan for tomorrow."

I found myself surprisingly unwilling to face the plan. But we'd been preparing for this for many years now; at least the last decade of our work had been focused on getting this as exactly right as we could. 

So I said, "The transfer itself should be painless; the Starlings had a better understanding of the mechanics of consciousness than the Pyreans did -- they did have longer to perfect it, after all. Pathira sounded quite intact when she spoke from Horst's body. It should not take very long, either, the moment of transference. In real time, that is... I have no idea how it will feel to you."

Jespar nodded slowly. I said, "So, tomorrow morning, we'll get up, and I'll eat, but it's probably better for you not to eat; and then we'll go to the workshop. I've prepared most of the necessary components and materials, but the final set up will take me... no more than an hour or two, I think? And then... well, then we hook you up and try it and hope for the best."

He nodded again; I could see the fear in his eyes. I tried to find some humor in the situation, adding, "It's a good thing I was so motivated to help so many people while I was in Enderal, even if that drive partly came from being an Emissary. It means I worked with a lot of Starlings on a lot of different projects, and it wasn't so hard to find the right information in the Archives up here to set it all up. So... the High Ones have shot themselves in the foot, really -- indirectly, they've helped us do this." Jespar smiled weakly, so my attempt at humor had succeeded, but I suddenly felt a wave of anxiety about the High Ones come over me. I loved Jespar so much, I wanted so badly for him not to die... was I doing this out of my fear of losing him? 

So I said, "Jespar... are we still sure we're doing this for the right reasons?"

He closed his eyes and was silent for a while. The Archive stopped spinning around us and the platform slowly rotated and sank down. I turned away from him a little, looking at the walls to make sure we were in the right place; we were. Seeing the carvings Jespar had worked on for so long, surrounding us... how beautifully they'd turned out, how expressive they were... how much information he'd carefully packed into each panel... I felt tears start and I tried to hold them back, knowing that I needed to try to stay strong for at least a little longer. It would do him no good if I fell apart. After we knew how tomorrow went... well, then I could deal with the results however I needed to deal with them.

I turned back to him, and saw his eyes were open again and he was looking at me with a mix of the fear of a moment ago, and also something softer, some combination of love or gratitude. He reached out with both arms towards me and I came close and gently laid the upper half of my body over his, carefully wrapping my arms underneath him in a kind of supine embrace. He wrapped his arms around me in return.

Jespar said in my ear, quietly, "I'm afraid. Tomorrow, either I die, or I change into something so different from what I am now that it might as well be death. Either way, it's the end of who I am now." He paused, and then added with some humor, "Frankly, I think it's reasonable to be terrified." Now I couldn't hold the tears back, though I tried not to actually sob in his ear.

Then he said, "But I also have no regrets. I have lived my life to the fullest -- you know I have. I wish I had met you sooner... and I wish I had not failed so many people before I met you, especially Adila and Lysia. But I didn't hold back on anything that did matter to me, once I knew my own mind about it."

I nodded, feeling the texture of his hair against my neck, strongly aware of how familiar his scent was, how it was calming, soothing, knowing he was there, even with my eyes closed... and knowing that these things would be gone forever tomorrow, one way or another.

Suddenly Jespar's voice was stronger. He squeezed me a little, and said, "And yes, we're doing this for the right reasons. This is the only way for me to play a part in changing the Cycle, in fighting the High Ones and what they represent. I have a responsibility to those that I failed in the last Cycle, to try to help those in the next one. If we succeed, I have a chance of doing that. That's better than just letting death take me. And... I want to live to see the next wave of humanity." I remember him saying something like that, when I was deciding whether to flee here. He'd talked about it as the decades had gone on -- how precious, how special it would be, to watch new life come forth and become its own civilization. To see what it had to show us, about itself and about us, too... what it could teach us about humanity. What about us was inevitable, and what wasn't... something you couldn't see from the perspective of only one lifetime.

I squeezed him gently and then carefully extricated myself, leaning back to look at him. His eyes were bright, possibly with tears, but also with a kind of fire that had been growing in him over the years. The more we talked about how to respond, how to intervene... what we thought was possible, what strategies we should try to use to lessen the power of the High Ones, to alleviate suffering especially in the late stages of the Cycle... I saw that become a kind of purpose for him that he hadn't had, back on Vyn.

Jespar said, "This is my moment of lucidity. Where I choose to become something different. Or at least to take the risk on becoming something different, something that could help the world move towards a different path. We escaped the Cleansing, and it means we have a responsibility, both of us, to do something about it next time."

I nodded and stroked his cheek. He finished, voice softer now, "And besides, you told me you weren't sure my body could take the transfer if we waited too long. I can... I can feel that day coming. I'm not going to let fear make me lose my chance to take responsibility. Not this time."

We sat there together, silent for a few moments. Then he smiled at me and said, "Let's finish the work, shall we?" I smiled back and nodded. I said, "You had something to add to the panel on Asâtoron and the Starfall?" He said, "Yes."

I stood and went to where I'd left the satchel with the carving tools, and dug around until I found the fine chisel I knew he'd want. We proceeded to spend the next several hours making little corrections and adding some fine details. I wasn't half bad as a sculptor, though I was nowhere near as good as Jespar had become. He was mostly patient with me, explaining slowly and calmly what to do. It was a nice way to spend the time. I had thought this night would last forever, knowing what we were going to attempt tomorrow morning. But I had to stay exceptionally focused on the task at hand, so it spared me from speculation about how it was all going to go. It helped me stay in the moment, at least for a while.

Eventually Jespar grew tired so we decided he ought to rest. I brought him a little food, which he could thankfully still eat on his own (we hadn't yet had to resort to me feeding him, unless it was for the purposes of foreplay or some other entertainment). I tried not to think about the fact that whatever he ate tonight would be his last meal. I'd done my best to make the foods he most loved, even tried an attempt at Endralean crusty bread, which was difficult up here with the substitutes we'd found for wheat and yeast. After he was finished eating and settled in to sleep for a while, I sat down on the ground, leaning against the couch. I finally let myself think about the plan again.

When he'd first joked about the Starling bird, I'd dismissed it as just trying to make light of the painful facts of the situation. When the ambrosia had eased his headaches, it had seemed fairly clear to me that regardless of whether my theory about the Veiled Woman bringing him from a nearby eventuality was correct, he definitely had some kind of chronic magical ailment that made no sense. Over time, we talked about whether he'd rather let himself pass out of life in whatever way this ailment took him, or whether he wanted to try Apotheosis. For a long time I hadn't known which way he'd go on it. 

But eventually, he'd come to the stance that he wanted to make a difference. So that was the first time I found out that he'd actually meant it when he said he wanted to be transferred into the Steel Dragon. I had strongly suggested that we consider all the options. For example, we might transfer him into the city itself. It would not be mobile like the dragon, but the potential of what he could do in control of the city's systems was immeasurably greater. He'd acknowledged the logic in that, but still preferred mobility. And it was pretty hard not to want to imagine what it would be like to fly...

The other suggestion I'd made, which was equally quickly rejected, was the idea of trying to build an organic construct, as the Father of the Rhalâta had done for Tharaêl. I knew that had been a much more error-prone process, with only three surviving individuals, only one of whom was mentally intact and even still deeply scarred from the pain of the experiments and the memory of all that had happened to him. Tharaêl was an uncomfortable subject for me; of all the people I had tried to help in my time as Prophet in Enderal, his death had been the hardest to take (and that was saying something). Calia, at least, had found some peace, and had died trying to help defend humanity. Tharaêl had died knowing that he'd failed in his singleminded life goal -- the Father had survived his assassination plan -- and that the only person he'd ever loved had still been alive, though without memory or personality, and that Tharaêl himself had been the one to kill him. Despite his prickly personality and the admittedly brief time we'd worked together, I had cared deeply for Tharaêl. Even many years later, thinking of him usually left me disconsolate for days at a time.

Jespar knew Tharaêl was a sensitive topic, and that I wouldn't bring him up if I didn't think it was absolutely necessary. So he was relatively gentle to me when he said, "I don't like the idea of following in the footsteps of the Father, as a general concept. And you may have forgotten that it was the Rhalâta who killed my father and brothers?" I *had* forgotten that aspect of that story. I'd apologized, but he'd dismissed me. He'd simply said, "It's all right. My point is just that I want nothing to do with any of that. And... besides, you told me that Tharaêl aged normally. If the point of the exercise is for me to be around in some form in the later stages of the next Cycle, then we probably want something more permanent, anyway." And that had been the end of that. The Steel Dragon it was, then.

And we had talked endlessly about how our relationship would change, when the time came. That the Dragon would have incredible senses of hearing and sight, and possibly other abilities we didn't know about, and wouldn't know about until he was transferred into it... but that he wouldn't have a sense of touch, taste, or smell. He'd never eat again, or experience physical pleasure. He'd told me: "It's hard to imagine that I'd stop loving you. But who knows what the transformation will do to my mind?" He'd thought for a long time about how to say this, I realized. "We never promised that our love would last forever, right? And you should... you should be free to have physical and emotional relationships with others, just as we agreed, back then." I'd laughed and told him that it would be thousands of years before there even were others. "Why don't we cross that bridge when we come to it," I'd said. And then I'd reminded him of a joke I'd made early on, after we'd come to the Star City: that maybe I was curious what kinds of things could still be done, even with a mechanical body. He'd quoted me back at myself: " Well, 'if you fancy Starling machines... who am I to judge?' " I'd laughed and nodded, and the conversation had moved on.

I sighed and looked over at him, sleeping. Things were definitely about to change, but I felt like it was hard to imagine not continuing to love him, even if he were in a drastically different form. Because I didn't just love him for his physical attributes, but also for his thoughts and feelings about the world, and because of all the things we'd shared. Joys, sorrows, revelations, disappointments. But there was no way to know what would happen. I took a deep breath, and sighed. He stirred in his sleep, a troubled look passing across his face like a stormcloud. I slid a hand down his arm and gently squeezed his hand where it lay on his belly. The stormcloud passed and he smiled a little, then roused, opening his eyes.

I said softly to him, "So, Master Dal'Varek, is there anything else our masterpiece needs? Or shall we call it fit for its purpose?" He laughed and said, "I think it's adequate." I clucked my tongue at him. "I'd say it's more than adequate. But you're the judge."

He nodded to me. "Yes, I think..." he looked around for a while contemplatively. "I think it's finished."

So, with that, I set the platform to return us to the Tower, and went about packing up the food and carving tools. We reached the top of the shaft, and I carefully gathered Jespar up in my arms and started back to our temporary quarters. Once there, I got him settled in our bed, and then went to put some things away and get ready for bed, myself. When I got back, he was sound asleep.

I tried to get into the bed as carefully as I could, attempting not to wake him, but he stirred and shifted closer to me. I gave up being quiet and just slid right up next to him, and let him nestle into me. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, seeing the moonlight shining on it at an odd angle, coming in from the window. Living up in the sky, the moon felt both closer and further, and when it set, it sometimes cast shadows upwards. That had been an odd phenomenon to get used to, but now it was strangely reassuring.

After a few moments, though, I felt Jespar stir again, and then felt his hands migrate to some key places he knew I particularly enjoyed. I murmured to him, "You have the energy tonight?" 

"Mmm-hmm," he answered. I chuckled and shifted around into a position that I knew made intimacy easier on him. Though this part of our relationship had faded somewhat as his strength had faded, he was still plenty capable of bringing me pleasure and enjoying his own, as long as we took it slow. I vowed to make his last night in a human body one to remember.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, after we were both fully awake, I carried Jespar out to the living area and set up him on the couch while I made breakfast. I wasn't sure what to say to him, or how to keep my mind from spinning out into a thousand possible outcomes of what we were about to do. But fortunately, he broke the silence himself.

"I've been thinking that the first thing we should do, once I've figured out how to work the thing," I knew he meant 'his new body,' "Is to start doing some aerial surveys. It seems to me that Master Gajus is somewhere down there, or maybe somewhere else up here, and we ought to start with him."

I nodded, sitting down with my breakfast in a chair across from Jespar at the small table I'd put next to the couch. I said, "He does clearly know much more about the Cycle. He's been through at least two of them, assuming he survived ours." I paused, chewing for a moment. "Not that I'm looking forward to meeting him again. I have this bad feeling that he'll say something like 'I told you so.' "

Jespar gave a short laugh. "Well, he didn't actually tell you so. He only hinted. And I'm not so eager to speak with the fellow, myself... he was not terribly personable, if I remember correctly. Though... obviously I can appreciate his perspective on a lot of things, now... much better than I could back then."

I laughed, too. "Definitely true." We'd talked a lot over the years about what our strategy should be in the next Cycle. At one point, we both thought that it was unlikely that we knew the rules well enough to actually stop the next Cleansing, and we should focus on alleviating suffering instead. At another point, we'd thought about building our own Beacon and retrieving the Word of the Dead and getting our own Numinos, before the Emissaries could purposely find and destroy one, or whatever catastrophic thing would happen in the next Cycle. Still another strategy involved building a secret (or not-so-secret) society of people who knew about the Cycle and could work against the Emissaries and the High Ones... or some kind of religion around supporting the aspects of human nature that would reduce the power the High Ones would have. Something that emphasized taking responsibility for and facing your own fears and selfish urges, rather than blaming them on something external. But surely something like that would have been tried by one of the other individuals who had survived a Cleansing... and neither of us liked the idea of being a religious leader.

Jespar reached over to the table and picked up the copy of the Kadath that I had kept after trying to help Esme find out what had happened to her companion, Tara. It told a great deal of detail about the Veiled Woman and the origin of the Cycle, though it did not make clear what the rules of the Cycle were. Jespar opened the book and flipped through a few pages, about two-thirds of the way to the end. He commented to me, "Even with this, I feel like we'd learn the most important things from Gajus."

I agreed. We'd tried to understand the contents of the book, together with my visions of what had happened to Tara and Dal'Mercer and the others who had sacrificed themselves to allow the Veiled Woman to physically manifest and intervene in our Cycle. I'd done the math, and Tara's sacrifice might have actually been what had made it possible for the Veiled Woman to place me in the High Ones' path, and perhaps also allowed her to resurrect Jespar after Adila had killed him. I had been saddened by how Tara's choices had hurt Esme, but Esme seemed to have found her own peace with it all, in the end, and I was personally grateful to Tara and the others, if they'd helped make it possible for us to intervene in future Cycles.

"And remember," Jespar added, "Even if we can find the Aged Man and get his advice, somehow... it may still not be possible to stop the Cleansing the next time. We shouldn't let our expectations be so high that we get overconfident." He sighed and closed the book, setting it gently back on the table. "The Black Guardian sounded so sure that he could 'fix' humanity, cause the High Ones not to exist at all... but that seems like a failure due to pride, to me. Ironic, since he was telling us that it was pride that gave the High Ones their power in the first place. I think that until we have a better idea about how the Cycle works, our first goal should be to learn about it." That was part of why we thought it was important to find Gajus and any others who had seen more Cycles than we had. 

"Yes," I said. "I agree that we should try to be realistic." I was silent for a while, finishing off the last of my breakfast. Eventually I added, "Even if we can somehow build a Beacon and light it properly, I doubt the problems of humanity will go away with that victory. But maybe they will be something we can face, something people can live with, and work with, without the High Ones making it even harder to do. And in any case, even if we can't weaken the High Ones... our second goal, right after learning more about the Cycle, should be to alleviate suffering, if we can."

Jespar nodded. We'd had this discussion many times before. But it felt important, right now, because it was reminding me at least of why we were about to attempt what we were about to attempt. No, not just attempt, I told myself. Do. There was a high chance of success, based on all our research, reading, calculating, and testing.

Just the same, we were both silent for quite some time before Jespar said, "All right, enough stalling. Let's get this over with." I nodded at him silently. I cleaned up my breakfast dishes, and took him to the indoor-outdoor lab we'd discovered at the top of one of the towers. It seemed to be the place where the Starlings had originally built and maintained the Steel Dragon, because once we'd gotten control over it and called it inside, this was where it had gone, without any specific instructions.

I laid Jespar on the experimental cradle. I checked the connections on the Dragon, at least three separate times. Checked the settings on the Starling devices that would transfer Jespar's consciousness into the Dragon's now-empty consciousness core. And then I placed the connections carefully in the right places on Jespar's body. He was looking up at me, fear in his eyes again. I saw him swallow nervously as I checked the leads for the third time.

He said, "Now you're really stalling. Come on, let's do it." I drew in a deep breath, and nodded. I leaned down to kiss him, one last time. Jespar kissed me back; and as I straightened up again, he looked me in the eyes and said, "I love you more than anything else in this world. Remember that, no matter what happens. And I am choosing this, whatever comes of it. Remember that, too."

I nodded, and said, "I will." And I stepped away, back to the control panel, and as my hand hovered over the switch, for one sickening moment I thought I heard the echoes of the High Ones' twisted voices laughing at me. Before I could let that affect me, I flipped the switch.

The machine hummed to life, and a glow surrounded Jespar's body on the experimental cradle, and also appeared around the Steel Dragon. I heard Jespar make some noise, but couldn't make out what, over the sound of the machinery. A few minutes went by, and the read-outs and lights indicated that whatever transfer could have taken place should be completed. So I shut it all down.

I stood for a moment, waiting, not quite sure what I should be looking for. And then the fear broke loose and I ran over to Jespar's body in the experimental cradle. Leaning over him, I could feel that there was no life in him anymore; not breathing, and there was none of the feeling of vitality that I usually perceived from living creatures. 

We had known that it was likely that the transfer would end his human body. Though these transfers only moved consciousness and not life essence from a living creature to a mechanical one, and therefore could be reversed if the body was properly preserved and cared for... Jespar's condition had meant that we thought it likely that there would be no going back. I looked down at him, tears starting, and whispered, "Jespar, did it work?" 

Silence for a moment, but then the Steel Dragon stirred, making clicking sounds as limbs shifted, joints articulated a little bit. I looked up at it, huge even in the big workshop space. Searching for some sign, some hope... 

"Assessing," came the response from the vocal components we had installed in the Dragon. It was Jespar's voice; we had learned how to transfer that, just as Pathira had done with Horst. But the tone of voice was flat, mechanical, like the creature. I held my breath. The noises continued as the creature seemed to be going through a set of diagnostic movements. The clicking sounds its joints made reminded me just a little of a Myrad.

Then, finally: "Yes, I believe it did. I can see and hear you." The tone felt warmer, more inflected, like it might actually be Jespar speaking the words. As I watched the Dragon continue to shift and adjust its limbs, it struck me that something about its posture actually reminded me of the way Jespar had held his body. I started to let myself hope that the transfer had worked well enough that he was at least somewhat intact in there.

Then he said, "My thoughts feel familiar -- like me. And... I can..." He paused for a moment. "I can still feel how much I love you."

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over me. He could still love me? I hadn't dared to hope that it would go this well.

The trauma of the experience had rendered me speechless, so just I stepped close and put a hand on the cold metal for a few moments. Eventually I said the only thing that I could form properly into words: "That's the second time I've had to watch you die."

Steel-Dragon-Jespar laughed, just as he would have done as a human, and said, "Well, we'll make sure it's the last time you have to do that." I laughed, too, partly out of the simple relief that he still responded as he would have before the change -- not taking things too seriously. Or rather, just seriously enough.

But then he said, "Though I can't feel your touch. That one is going to be hard." I nodded and knocked softly on the limb of the Dragon. "I can ...*hear* that, though... strange sensation. Like the vibration echoes through me... it's reassuring, actually."

He was silent for a few minutes, and then said, "Why don't you stand back, I want to see how I move in this thing."

I said, "Of course," and moved back, watching as he raised one limb at a time, extending and flexing each of them through a full range of motion, then turning around carefully in a half-circle. Then, suddenly, he took three steps forward, out into the open part of the workshop through which we'd brought the Dragon, and launched himself into the air.

"Jespar, wait!" I cried. How could he know how to fly already? He had barely even moved ten feet... and indeed, the first attempt didn't go terribly well. He managed a big jump but hadn't coordinated the first few wing sweeps, and he nearly hit a pillar with one of his wings. But he corrected himself as he landed, and then in a second jump, he succeeded in staying off the ground for a few seconds before settling back down. He gave a loud whoop of delight. 

He turned back to me, bringing the head of the dragon down to my level. He said, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. This body has its own knowledge of how to move, I just have to learn how to tell it what to do. I think it won't take long to master it." Then he turned his head to the side to examine the experimental cradle. He touched the edge of a wing to human Jespar's chest, and said, "This is my past. But this," and he swung his head towards the open sky beyond the workshop, "This is my future." He said, almost reverently, "It's quite a future."

I was crying, but I laughed, too, and said, "It is." He looked back down to me and said, "We'll explore it together. All of it." I nodded, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

"Just one thing, though," he said. "What's that?" I asked. "Call me Varek from now on. It feels like a better name for this body."

"All right," I said. "Varek it is."

**Author's Note:**

> One of the things I found so difficult about the ending of the game was realizing that even if the Prophet escapes the Cleansing with Jespar (or Calia for that matter), eventually they'll outlive them by thousands of years. It's such a crushingly lonely thought. So as I thought about what could happen following that ending, I'll admit that I was trying to figure out how to save Jespar. But I also tried to decide how I thought the character himself would feel... would he want to keep living? Even at the end of the game, his personal story arc has brought him to a place where he actively wants to take responsibility for the things he cares about. Maybe he *would* want to live, to help fight the High Ones in the next Cycle.
> 
> But if he did survive by Apotheosis, it would still be a big transition, a big change, both for him and for his relationship with the Prophet. I became fascinated with exploring how it would go between them. And as I wrote this scene, I realized this was also me having to let go of him, too. 
> 
> Also this piece was a nice way to explore what it's like to live with a chronic illness, in yourself or your loved ones. How caregiving can feel, and the ability for relationships to adapt to disability.
> 
> And it also gave me the opportunity to fit in a few more speculations about what they might do strategically in the next Cycle, and a few shout-outs to some of my other favorite characters/quests/stories from the game.
> 
> Finally... I had this thought that often in adventure stories, there are these characters, like the Aged Man, who have these personal backstories that you never really get (who is the woman in the water?), but somehow these people have become these ageless, ancient beings with perspective that the adventurer cannot possibly understand. Instead they interact with these characters in a very particular way... either fighting them, or trying to outwit them, but usually not successfully. They usually gain some kind of wisdom from them, but without understanding much about their nature or personal story. And I kind of picture that the Prophet and Jespar (or Varek, which I thought was a better dragon name) will be those kinds of characters in later Cycles, and this is the story of how they got that way. (and then I actually wrote that scene: ["Mysteries."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297481))


End file.
